No Remedy For Memory
by kalloen
Summary: During a quest to the Earth Kingdom after the war to resolve a dispute, Katara is separated from Aang and fate finds her in the Fire Nation. When she arrives, however, a crisis pulls her closer to finding out what has been missing from her life for the past three years. Zutara. Four years after series finale. Mild Kataang at begining for plot purposes. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Katara sat by the glow of a small candle and the full moon bright in the sky. She tucked her hands up, bending at the wrists then pushing them up to the sky. The water moved with her, like an obedient child. It lifted, pulled and pushed at her whim, dissolving her inhibitions in one small wave. Guiding it out of the small fountain before her, she extended her arms as far out as she could, dangling the water off the edge of the balcony in front of her. The water sloshed, forming a living sphere that breathed droplets outward as it levitated. At any moment, Katara could drop her aim, and even the slightest malicious twitch could rain droplets down, lost in the waters a mile beneath her. But she didn't. The water trusted her just as she had trusted it all these years. She flipped her hands over, exposing her palms to the star-scattered sky and moon's drawing power. Sucking in a small, sharp breath, Katara pulled the water back over the edge of the balcony. With one hand closing slowly, she pushed the other down in a calming gesture, creating a small flow as the water poured quietly back into the fountain.

Sighing, Katara sat on the edge of the marble water feature. It was one of the first additions to the topsy turvy Western Air Temples where she had called home for the past two years. She could remember clearly the day Aang had demanded the fixtures be installed. A refugee earth bender from south of Ba Sing Se and an engineer deserter from the Fire Nation had worked together to make sure it functioned well. They had bickered a few times during the process, prompting Katara to giggle as she watched while caring after Momo. Things were changing in the winds and two years seemed like so long ago. The Western Air Temple still served as a refugee hot-spot, now to over a thousand citizens who deserted their nations out of fear of the recently established peace falling apart. Katara could feel the air growing denser every day. Makeshift tribes of respective nationalities had formed and grown tightly-knit. Hostility was smoldering, just waiting for kindling and Katara worried…

She leaned in closer to the candle glimmering next to her and growing hotter as she removed much of the space between it and her cheek. The war had been over for four years. All of the kingdoms were growing in unity. Trade routes, new Kyoshi camps, settlers moving in flocks to help other tribes and nations all contributed to the emergent peace. Katara knew the pilgrimage well, in fact. She had served as Ambassador of the newly re-settled Southern Water Tribe for the first two years following the war. She visited her friends in Ba Sing Se often during her travels, a very eager airbender not once leaving her side.

The flame of the candle licked at her. Four or five years ago, having a flame so close to her would have given her pause, made her flinch or even prompt her to consume it in her own element. Now, as it glowed so close to her eye, it warmed her and she could feel…

Him.

Zuko's coronation day had been celebrated by the Fire Nation as a relief to the tyrant rule of his sister and father before him. It was also renowned by other nations as many new treaties were signed and trade routes opened. Katara had watched from the outskirts of a crowd of thousands as one of her greatest friends succumbed to the cage of a crown upon his messy hair. His people bowed and rejoiced as she turned away and faltered to her emotions. She knew she should be happy for him, but something inside her told her that this was a day of mourning. That full moon night three years ago was the last time she had laid her eyes on her friend. He had called on her many times in letters, missives and the occasional court herald, but an assistant was always sent in her place to attend to the needs of the Fire Nation. More than once, Aang had questioned her on her reluctance to visit the Fire Lord in his own nation. He had offered to send for him to visit the Western Air Temple, which was only a few days across the sea. Katara would smile at him when he offered these things, only replying with a half-hearted "I love you" and a kiss on the nose, melting away any of his suspicions for a short time. How could she tell him of her yearning to be anywhere else but with him?

Of course their constant closeness had led to a deepening of their relationship for the past two years. Katara had known no other man in the intimate ways that she knew Aang, so of course when the three word ballad of destruction fell from his lips for the first time, she returned it, despite the bitter after-taste of it screaming that she shouldn't. The days passed on and more and more romantic transactions were had between the two. Aang had fallen in deep with Katara, and she returned her affections with all that she had in her, leaving her feeling empty and exhausted all of the time. She had decided long ago, even before the war had ended, that if Aang were to pursue romance with her, it was in the world's best interest that she return his affections. Yet, after the war was won, she had a blinking hope that she would be free from her emotional shackles until Aang swooped her up once more. She knew it was not fair to him that her love and affections were forced, but he was always happy to see her and she did not want to let him down. He was her friend, after all. But that was when the doubts started to creep further into her mind.

One year ago, she announced her leave of absence as Ambassador, prompting many letters of concern from Toph, Suki, Ty Lee, and yes, even Zuko. Over and over she reassured everyone that she was alright and just needed to dedicate her time to building and keeping her new home in order. It was bullshit, of course, but she hoped that her friends would turn a blind eye. Nasty rumors began to fill her ears from those around her regarding her temporary resignation. Citizens spoke of abuse, unplanned pregnancy, even accounting having witnessed the former Ambassador in fits of rage or attempted suicide. These rumors were always quickly dismissed at the Avatar's urging and the growing reclusiveness of Katara.

Katara held her eyes shut and pursed her lips, turning to fully face the candle. The warmth tickled her lips as she held them close to the element, flickering wildly at her breathing. So close, yet so far…

Footsteps closed in on the balcony from behind her as Katara's pursed lips opened into a gentle 'o' and a single breath silenced the warmth she relished in. The footsteps grew louder and closer but she remained stoic, even as a hand clasped her shoulder.

"Katara, I know it's late, but," Aang sat next to her and placed a finger under her chin, turning her eyes to meet his. "Katara, a missive has arrived from Omashu. There has been an outbreak of violence among the Fire Nation tribes there. I am leaving at sunset tomorrow evening."

The words cut into Katara's subconscious. Part of her willed herself to tell him to have a safe journey, but her freedom craving spirit ate at her.

"How long will you be away?" She asked.

"I'm not sure. It's hard to gauge but I will try to make it quick." His soft hand now encompassed her cheek that had, only moments ago, felt true warmth.

"Well I hope your journey is-"

"Come with me."

His voice rang in her ears as she was taken aback. Aang did not usually offer to bring her along unless she had expressly been invited. Even then, she would send someone in her place so she could have some days of peace from the Airbender. Katara was not ungrateful that he had offered to bring her along, but she felt that she would just be a burden on most occasions, distracting him from his true efforts. She pondered for a moment on her position at his side while he mediated this concern of the village. He would have meetings with the tribesman, resolve their issues in a matter of hours, then take the children out for toys and the adults out for frozen fruit pops. The thought made her lips curl up slightly. Maybe venturing out of the comforts of her home would be good for her…

"Aang, I am not sure I would be of much help to you…" She looked down while she spoke.

"So what, Katara? Just be my company, then. Please. For so long you've been so sad here and I just want to help you break this cycle, Katara. I know I don't know what is wrong or why you have been so depressed, but I want to help you find the piece that is missing." He pleaded with her, placing a kiss among the tresses of hair crowning her head. "Let me help."

With that, Katara knew there was no fighting him. She nodded, letting her impulses ravage her like a hungry beast. He pulled her in tightly under his chin and she could feel his muscles tighten into a smile.

"Thank you, Katara. You won't regret this."

Aang pushed Katara lightly and navigated his lips to hers. The kiss was sweet and full of the Avatar's passion, ending only when Aang tilted his mouth away and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Haru will remain here to watch over the refugees. Appa will have to stay as well in case supplies are needed. We'll leave by ship, but until sunset tomorrow," Aang stood, pulling her up and leading them to the doors behind them, "until then, you're mine." Smiling, he pressed his lips to hers and kicked the door shut.

The sun shone brightly overhead as Katara trudged through the sand behind Aang. A sudden cust of wind pushed Katara forward slightly, buckling her legs and sending her, knee-first, into the warm sand. At hearing her grunt and thud to the ground, Aang spun around, his two earthbender friends following suit. Aang was always near some sort of entourage; his loyal accolyties willing to assist him in any circumstances. The two young earthbenders started forward, rushing to Katara's aid. Just as they bent, arms out for Katara to balance herself on, a ring of bellowing laughter shot through the air. Katara snorted and sputtered, letting out loud giggles as she pushed herself onto her backside. Much to the confusion of the young men at her sides, Katara stood herself up, placing her hand on the arm of the man to her right.

"I'm alright, guys, thanks!" She smiled, baffling them further.

Aang jogged over to her, pointing to the bag that had landed softly in the sand in front of her. The young man to Katara's left picked up her bag and continued toward a large wooden ship that had been wedged into the sand. Aang replaced him at her side and took her arm in his. Katara blushed lightly, still giggling as they walked arm-in-arm to the ship.

"So you're laughing already and we aren't even on the ship!" Aang was smiling, watching as the sun pushed further towards the horizon through a patch of greying clouds.

"Heh, yeah, I guess so," she said.

"Still don't think being out is doing you any good?"

"No, Aang, it is, I just," she tried to think of what to say but decided to keep it simple, "Thank you."

They were at the ship, standing hand-in-hand now. Katara pursed her lips and leaned in for a light kiss as Aang brushed his lips to hers.

Aang pulled her onboard and up to the deck. The ship was large; a small troop could sail comfortably for quite some time. For the journey to Omashu, however, the vessel would only house six; Katara and Aang, the two young Earthbenders who had accompanied the couple to the ship, and two waterbenders who would ensure their hasty arrival to the Earth Kingdom.

"Avatar Aang," one of the waterbenders, a large man with very little hair that Katara recognized as Alon, approached them. "We are ready to depart, sir."

"Thank you, Alon," Aang bowed to him as he returned the gesture.

Alon turned around and motioned for the younger, female waterbender to follow him. She had been adjusting the rigging on the ship, but she responded immediately to her superior's request. Katara had seen her around the Western Air Temple as well, mostly practicing her bending or chatting with Haru. Her name was River, Katara remembered. Her parents had brought her to the refugee sight almost a year ago. Shortly after, a young man arrived to the air temple to gather her mother and father for important business. Katara only had the good fortune of meeting River's mother once before her sudden departure. She was a strikingly beautiful woman with sharp red hair and fair skin. Katara had never seen a waterbender with such features, so Katara assumed River doted mostly on her father's genes with her darker skin and curly brown hair.

The two talented benders took position, Alon at the stern and River at the bow. River lifted her arms into the air while Alon did the opposite, pushing his arms out over the railing of the boat. Katara could feel water as it pulled at her heart. The deck beneath their feet quivered as the waves broke against the shore and the bow of the ship. The water overtook the sand around them as Katara admired the fluid movements of the two benders. Closing her eyes, she felt her palms overturn at her sides, the movement of her hands and fingers imitating the push and pull of the bending that brought the ship into open ocean in a matter of minutes. A swelling grew in Katara's stomach as the ship beneath her feet touched water on all sides. Sighing, Katara moved her hands up, pressing them to her breasts as she breathed deeply in and out. Aang approached her, snaking his arm around her slim waist. Instantly, Katara could feel the spirit of water alive in him, touching her through his hands. It felt calming and almost spiritual for their skin to meet, but a clap of thunder jolted Katara from the serene moment. The tide had calmed over deep sea and Alon walked over to the couple who were distracted by the sudden end of their embrace. River had taken over his ministrations at the stern, pushing the ship Southeast.

"Avatar Aang, Master Katara," he bowed, "the winds are in our favor but it appears that we may not beat this oncoming storm. I expect to arrive at the swamp in eight days time. From there it will be a day's trek North to Omashu."

"Thank you, Along. Please let me know if you need any assistance on deck." Aang smiled, still embracing Katara. "We'll be below deck until the storm passes."

The journey was very boring for Katara. A storm came, causing a whipping in the sails that she listened to from the cabin below deck. Just as quickly as the storm arrived, the seas grew calm and two moons into their pilgrimage, Katara's longing begin to eat at her again. She walked onto the deck on her third sunset on the ship, gazing out. She felt a pull from the north; an omen. But of what? She felt a cold pang in her chest and a boiling in the pit of her abdomen. Her fingertips tingled, drawing her starboard. She wandered mindlessly to the ship's railing as a light breeze blew into her eyes. Everything calmed and her head felt clear as she leaned over the side of the ship. Katara dipped her hand down the side of the boat, fingers dangling like ghosts. She felt her heart beat harder and at her command, the salt spray jumped up to brush the pads of her fingertips like a whisper. Trembling at the touch, she bent her arm further outward until a small vine of clear liquid enraptured her arm like a string of bangles. It was cold and for a moment, it solidified, glassing over in ice and absorbing her small droplets of perspiration in it's wake.

Against her will, the ice shattered and the water vanished back into the ocean. Katara scoffed and stood upright just as she felt the ship drop from below her. Although her feet stayed firmly planted, her stomach jumped up into her throat, eliciting a cough to escape her lips. She turned towards Alon at the stern of the ship and started towards him. Aang, the young earthbenders and River all ascended to the deck as a loud clap of thunder shook through the air.

"Katara, what is it?" Aang shouted as sheets of rain now fell hard onto the deck.

"The storm caught up with us, but," she glanced around, her eyes fleeting from her companions to the dark horizon. "Something is wrong. I feel it, this isn't just a storm, it's…" Then Katara knew.

Her eyes were drawn over the bow of the ship, transfixed on a darkness like death rushing towards them.

"Rogue wave!" She screamed and launched herself to the edge of the ship.

Alon, River and the Avatar rushed forward to join her. Katara raised her arms high, her companions mimicking her every move in fluid succession. The boat rocked and teetered. The two earthbenders were clinging to the ships largest mast; it was all they could do to avoid being thrown into the unforgiving ocean. The rain fell even harder, accompanied by chunks of ice growing in size every second. Katara's arms extended up again, then out, then up again, then down in a pattern, like a prayer to manipulate the spirit of the sea. The wave still hunted them with growing ferocity. Frustrated, Katara continued her ministrations with her right arm, her left bending up and back behind her at an impossible angle. This was the focus of a true waterbending master. The ship gained haste and a distance was formed between the benders and the wave, but it too seemed to gain speed.

"It's going to hit, Katara! We can't stop it!" Aang was screaming now, not noticing that despite the commoation, Katara had formed a shield to keep the rain and ice at bay. The benders continued to move, their rhythm well established, but it was not enough. The rogue wave towered above them like a mountain. Aang broke his focus and suddenly the world moved slowly in flashes. Alon grabbed River and dove forward in time to cling to the ship's railing and each other. One of the young earthbenders, the one who had picked up Katara's bag for her, slipped over the side of the ship while the blood curdling scream of his brother pierced the air. Aang felt a wave of sick pass over him at the sight before his eyes, but trauma blocked his physical ailments when he thought of Katara. He screamed her name but heard nothing in return. Everything was quiet until he turned to see her. Katara.

She was standing perfectly still on the ship's railing, facing him, a look of terror and apology washed the striking blue in her eyes away. Her arms, now mentally separated from her body, flung around her chest as she turned and jumped, flinging herself into the darkness of the wave. The first thing she felt was true pain, excruciating. She felt herself being rolled, drowned by her own element as she pushed her arms out to her sides, bending with every ounce of life within her. She had to stop the wave from colliding with the ship and the only way to do that was to go within.

"Katara!" Aang screamed and braced himself for the full impact of the wave. It would surly capsize the ship, trapping the earthbender in a tangle of mast and rigging. Alon and River's skin would be stripped from them at the force of the wave. This rogue wave, this random phenomenon would destroy him. But it never did. The deadly impact of the wave never came.

The sea was calm now as a light rain fell like mist upon the ship. The young earthbender was shrieking in grief and Alon and River were pulling each other up, inspecting themselves for broken bones or missing appendages.

"Katara?" The name fell from the Avatar's lips in a meek whisper of desperation.

"She saved us." Alon approached him now, shock and loss apparent in his voice. "We must continue on to help the citizens of Omashu."

"No! Where is she?" Aang broke away from Alon and rushed to the ships railing, darting his eyes over the open ocean in a desperate attempt to locate his waterbender. "We have to find her! Go back!" Aang was screaming now.

"With all due respect, Avatar Aang, continuing on to help the city is where we are destined to go. Katara sacrificed herself to the ocean spirit so we can continue our mission," Alon pleaded with the distraught airbender, "to bring peace to the world."

"How can there be peace without her?" Aang felt so broken.

"Avatar Aang, please," River chimed in, "We need to make it to Omashu before there is anymore fighting or anymore storms. It's what she would have want-"

"Shut up!" Anng flew at River, grabbing her wrists tightly. "How can you know what she wanted? You have known her all of three days, how do you kno-"

"Because she was with you!" River screamed back at him, no regard for the hand tightening around her wrist. "Avatar Aang, she stayed with you, day and night. Anyone who glanced at her for even a moment could see her heart longed to be elsewhere, but she stayed for her people and she stayed for you!" Now fuming, the young waterbender was a tower of just and harsh truths above the Avatar who sat before her in a puddle of mourning. "Do not let her die in vain."

For a moment, the earth was still and quiet again, the rains grip on them loosened with the grip of Aang's hand. A single tear streamed down, lost among the seawater and perspiration adorning his face. As he looked up at his waiting companions he clung to no expression. He was stoic. A rock.

"Full speed to Omashu, then. No more delays."

The sun rose and fell twice before the sopping form of a deprived waterbender hit the sands of Ember Island. An old frail man with his walking stick had shouted to draw attention to the young figure. Her brown hair was matted and her blue clothing was in shreds.

"Is she alive?" A small girl clung to her mother's leg as a crowd formed around the girl on the beach. The old man reached out and pushed his cane into the figures chest.

A cough, a gurgle and finally a long heave escaped the girl's mouth. Bolting upright, her beautiful blue eyes snapped open. She stared around herself in horror. At the notice of the group gathered around her, Katara mustered her remaining strength and pulled herseulf upward into a sloppy defensive stance, bending water from the shore into a weak whip. Unbeknownst of how weak she really was, she lunged forward, only for her legs to give out from beneath her. Attempting to balance herself, Katara grabbed the outstretched arm of a young man to her right, tearing a patch form his sleeve as he caught her. She held the patch and brought it close to her heart, immediately recognizing it's markings.

"Bring me to the Fire Lord."

And darkness washed over her.

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_**AN **_Welcome to another Zutara fic! Of course! I am working on this piece for Zutara month. Of course it wont be done by then, since I am trying to write a hundred things at once, but it should be a long one. :) Please Follow, Fave and Review!


	2. Chapter 2

**I am so sorry for the previous version of this chapter. I was just not happy with it so I went ahead and revised it. But this is where you guys come in! Let me know if you read the previous chapter and if you think the revision is better or just a ton of crap too. XD At any rate, this is the new version of Chapter two and you guys will get a real update sometime very very soon. When I don't have a million and ten things happening at once. :) **

* * *

Zuko sighed as quietly as possible as he signed the parchment before him. After weeks of mindless bickering with the elderly men of the trade council, Zuko longed for the rest and relaxation he had been denied as of late. Breathy chortling and the sound of rolling parchment filled the conference hall as the geriatrics swapped bows and handshakes amongst each other, polite nods in the direction of the young Fire Lord who simple smiled.

"Well, then, if we're finished here, my lord," Seto, with his graying eyes and stubble and round head proclaimed boisterously, "my grandchildren are awaiting me for an early dinner!" He patted his robust stomach and elicited some grunts of agreement from his peers. "Is there anything else you require from us, my lord?" He smiled wide.

"No," Zuko replied, almost too quickly, "that is all for today. Thank you, gentlemen. You are dismissed." The young lord in his tunic of silk the color of bricks turned and bowed, then sunk back into his chair while the others took their leave.

Closing his eyes, Zuko found his head drifting towards the table slowly. He could sleep here, if only for a moment; no more meetings, scheduled outings, conferences…He was officially signed out as Fire Lord for the evening and the sun had not even set! He cradled this thought in his mind as preciously as a child and felt a slight rush as he prepared his head for the impact of the rough surface. Just as the smell of the cherry wood stain rose into his nostrils, a rapping jolted him from his near slumber. Without waiting for a reply or permission to enter, the door opened, revealing a petite figure in a modest black dress. The neckline rose up to the woman's ears, as a cloth throttle that choked out a chiseled face. Soft black hair tufted high above pointed shoulders and flats two sizes too small accented obviously uncomfortable feet.

"Mai." Zuko nodded at her while she quietly closed the door. Her soft footprints drew nearer and Zuko suddenly found himself craving a glass of water.

"Zuko." A delicate hand fell on his shoulder. "I have something I need to discuss with you." Her voice was chilly but pressing although her eyes betrayed a soft expressionlessness that Zuko had always found trouble deciphering.

Zuko tucked his hands underneath one another and placed them on his lap, careful not to lean too far back or he would risk falling asleep. He was very exhausted. The trade council had met almost eight times in the past three days to discuss the final changes in a bill that would be passed to create a trade route into the mountains of the Western Fire Nation. This would also open the West Coast to creating port cities, stimulate trade with the Earth Kingdom and also allow for more tourism attractions to be settled in the harsher wilderness destinations west of the Fire Nation capitol. The bill had caused much controversy, as did everything nowadays, and Zuko had far too many late nights lying awake in bed with the stress on his mind. In fact, he was almost certain that he hadn't seen Mai in over a week. An obvious annoyance for her.

"The Council of the Fire Lily met today, Zuko." Mai's tone was serious, like a mother scolding her child for something they didn't know was wrong.

Zuko sighed, once more, as he knew what was coming. The Council of the Fire Lily had been his gift to Mai following his coronation as Fire Lord. It consisted of her and fourteen other young women who acted as delegates for matriarchal projects around the Fire Nation. They had successfully opened orphanages, reduced city waste and even helped to repurpose Ember Island to house a larger port city and more middle and lower class citizens looking for good work. All in all, they had been much more productive than Zuko had originally thought they would be. Mai had selected the other women due to their noble backgrounds, intelligence and sometimes even their beauty, so it honestly did not come as a surprise to her when their naturally dominating attitudes started to question her authority over them. As a Governor's daughter, she was quick to flaunt her superiority and take charge once more, however the events of the day's meeting had been something she had not anticipated so soon.

"Zuko, the delegates of the council are pressing further on your," she hestitated for a moment, drawing in even breaths, "your…reluctance to choose a wife."

How did he know this was coming? "I see," Zuko treaded lightly, placing his hand over hers on his shoulder, "and what did you have to say on this matter?"

"That the Fire Lord is of age and is currently… considering…who will fill the open seat of the Fire Lady." Zuko felt the hints she was pushing on him like a wave. However, Mai drifted off slightly, pulling her hand from his and wandering to the far east wall of the conference room, fingering the spines of the books on the large shelf as she walked by.

"Good, so what is the issue then?" Zuko pressed his fingers to his temples and tried to coax away his impending migraine. He had hoped to put this conversation off a bit longer and had especially hoped it would occur sometime when he had found the proper rest.

"Zuko," Mai turned back to him and took the seat directly across from him at the foot of the table, "the women of the Council, as you know, are mostly eligible young women of nobility, save for the few that married into their titles. There are currently ten women…including myself who are seeking husbands and…Well," she bit her lip, trying to focus on the delicacy of the situation, handling her romantic life like a business transaction. "If an announcement is not made soon, I am afraid, _my_ _lord_, you will be courted." Mai only addressed him by his title when her patience was wearing thin and three years of dodged dinner dates, quietly sneaking around the palace halls and brief nights of intimacy ending long before sunrise had wrung her patience like a ripping towel.

Zuko had been aware of his feelings for Mai for quite some time. What feelings they were, however, were a complete enigma to him. All of the Fire Nation could suspect they had an ongoing affair, but Zuko would never confirm or deny it. He knew of Mai's burning affections for him for a while as well so it was only natural for the two of them to be hurled into a relationship of sorts. For a year following the war, it had been blissful; Mai would sneak through his window or slip extra coins to his bedchamber guards, and as a noblewoman, no one questioned her presence walking freely through the palace in wee hours of the morning and no one dared question her attire that looked shockingly similar to the previous day's dress. They would flirt over tea or visit the royal summer home on Ember Island together, ducking in an ally or a cluster of trees. Zuko grew busy, however, and in the wake of his coronation, Mai felt a change in the winds. Zuko became Fire Lord and Mai was lost in the shadows, only to steal sweet kisses more and more infrequently and finding herself embarrassed when doing so.

Something was lost in Zuko the day the golden crown was pushed into his ebony hair…

"Zuko, if you could just make an announcement of the choice of your betrothed, I am sure that that it would put the minds of the entire nation at ease." Mai regained her composure and confidence as she addressed the young man in front of her.

Zuko could see the logic in marrying Mai; they got along fairly, she was very pretty… but there was a piece missing, something she lacked and he knew she could never gain…

However this had gone on for long enough. He knew he had to make a tough decision to appease his people. Zuko ran his fingers back through his hair and stood, walking towards Mai. He found himself almost bounding, actually, taking the seat to her left very quickly. The silence pressed on as he cupped her hands that were delicately draped across her lap. There was something so tame in her. She was a noble lady of the Fire Nation and she made damn sure to remind herself and everyone around her constantly with her body language, treatment of the service staff, even her attention towards Zuko…

"Lady Mai," he addressed her formally, dropping her hands and placing his own flat on the table, palms down. He could feel heat swelling in his head; his body's way of trying to cope with the lack of sleep. "Lady Mai," he began again, "it would do me a great service if you-,"

_Oh gosh, he's serious…_

"Lady Mai," he cleared his throat, catching her stare and fumbling on his words like a grade school student, though not for a childlike wonder of nervousness, but an impending doom that towered above him. "It would be very honorable of you-"

_This is happening, oh wow…_

"-if you could-"

_Yes, go on…_

"-please inform the Council of the Fire Lily-"

_Zuko, oh…_

"-that I will not be announcing my engagement or accepting any offers of courtship…"

The words drifted off like they were being said by someone falling from a cliff. Mai's eyes burned in her sockets and her head felt dizzy. Had she said the wrong thing? Was Zuko not understanding…No, he was definitely understanding what her intentions were the moment she walked into the room. His eyes were pleading orbs of honey sunk into a half clear half clouded sky of ivory skin. Mai could see under his palms that small puddles of sweat and wood stain had formed from his nervous manipulation of the element imbued so clearly over his left eye. No words could cut through the tension of the moment, even as Zuko's final words rippled past Mai's ears. She did not hear them. She was in shock. She sprung from her chair and a ringing smack shot into the air as her palm and fingertips caressed the Fire Lord's dumbfounded face with all the ferocity of a tiger wolf, taking a small bit of scar with them. And finally, like the snuffing of a candle, the flame inside Mai had gone, just as she did.

There was a point of exhaustion that even firebenders faced where sleep was no longer an option that would sate the weakened mind. However, Zuko felt it was still worth a try as he kicked his boots under his bed and fell back into the satin sheets. He did not bother to undress or redress or even close the curtains to block the fiery sunset that reflected in every golden polished surface of his ornately decorated room. The stinging of his face had long subsided, replaced with a numb swelling that tingled deeply into his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut and he rolled, burying his face into a pillow of turtle duck feathers. Finally, he had some sort of peace. Darkness cast itself over him and the sun bursting through his window eventually faded into a moon, bold and red like an orb of blood hung high in the sky.

Iroh had not visited the Fire Nation capital in almost six months. Still, no matter how long he spent away, as long as his nephew was on the throne he felt warm and welcome walking the halls of the great palace. Tonight was no exception. His ship had come in earlier in the evening but he had enjoyed walking through the city in the warm fall air. His attentions were now focused on finding his nephew.

The sun had just set and the moon now hung in the sky. It was red, like a blood orange, but too red to be a harvest moon. It was the kind of red that prompted mothers to hug their children for an extra few seconds before sending them to bed; the kind of red that called for an extra few checks of the locks on the doors; the kind of red that screamed death or despair. A red moon was the only omen of red that did not bode good tidings, even for those in the Fire Nation.

The Fire Lord's bedchambers were in the east wing of the palace on the third floor. It was a climb, but Iroh ascended the stairs in his old age with the grace of a zebra gazelle. A guard was posted outside of his room.

"Sintag." Iroh approached the guard and bowed.

"General Iroh, sir, it's an honor." The guard returned the gesture. "Is there something I can assist you with?"

"Sintag, my friend, I was hoping to visit with my nephew this evening. I granted myself the liberty of searching the library or his office but he was absent from both. Is he feeling well?" Iroh smiled.

"Well, sir, he was very tired when he arrived at his room this afternoon. He has not had any other callers."

"If you don't mind," Iroh allowed himself to reach for the door handle, "I will let myself in. Can you have a servant bring tea? Jasmine, of course."

"Uh, well, yes, sir." Sintag fumbled slightly, unsure of whether to stop the Dragon of the West from entering the Fire Lord's chambers. He ultimately decided to allow it, scooting down the hall to find a free hand to fetch tea this late in the evening.

Iroh opened and shut the door with a ferocious bang. Zuko's chambers consisted of four rooms. The first was the antechamber that housed a small table and chairs, a sofa and bookshelves lining every inch of the walls. To the left in the antechamber was a door that lead out onto a large balcony that housed a raised garden. To the right lead into the Fire Lord's bedroom and ultimately a wash room and closet. The room itself was decorated in the finest gold and cherry wood ornamentations and furniture. Red curtains sheathed the moonlight out of the room, small flickering candles were scattered on shelves and bureaus and the table in the center of the room for heat and light. Iroh made his way to the large door that lead into the bedroom. He rapped lightly on the door, just as he heard a rapping come from the antechamber door. He decided that Zuko could use a few more minutes' rest and he walked back over to the door he had come through, letting in a young maid who carried a silver tray with a tea kettle and warmer, two cups and a basket of tea leaves and sugars. She bowed to Iroh as she placed the tray on the table.

"General Iroh, this message was also brought by courier and meant for immediately delivery to the Fire Lord." She smiled sweetly and slipped the crisp parchment envelope to Iroh, who slipped her a few coins from his pocket. The envelope had a weight to it and Iroh could feel a small object inside, like a stone.

"Thank you, dear. That is all." He smiled as she exited and the young Fire Lord emerged from his bedroom, groggy and barely conscious.

"Uncle Iroh." The old man approached Zuko as he wandered over to the table and wrapped him in a fatherly embrace. Zuko hugged back lightly and plopped himself down in a comfortable chair while Iroh prepared the tea.

It was always a pleasure to see his uncle, and although Zuko lacked enthusiasm due to his current state, Iroh knew he was happy to see him.

"What's the time, Uncle?" Zuko accepted the tea cup being offered to him. Iroh took a seat across from him and smiled.

"Why, Zuko, it is roughly half past the twenty first hour. You have been sleeping since before sunset, correct?"

Zuko nodded, sipping his tea and relaxing. It was nice to keep the presence of someone who did not feel the need to badger him with insolent questions or have him sign books full of parchments. Zuko pondered whether or not he should tell his uncle of his afternoon, including his time with Mai. He decided that was a conversation better had by the truly lucid.

"Zuko, this was also delivered to you just moments ago." Iroh passed the envelope to his nephew and watched as he tore it open, pulling out a piece of parchment. He lazily let the envelope fall to the floor, a small item rolling out of it and under the table. Zuko sighed loudly in frustration and as his uncle bent down to pick it up, the Fire Lord read the message aloud;

"_Fire Lord Zuko,_

_A young woman was found on the shore outside your home on Ember Island. She is currently being held in our cells on the island but refuses to speak with anyone until you arrive. We at the Ember Island Police Force desperately apologize for disturbing you, but the young peasant insisted that we at least send the disclosed item to you for inspection. We await your reply. _

_General Anto, Ember Island Police For-" _Zuko glanced up, noticing his Uncle's wide- eyed expression at the object he turned over in his hand. "Uncle, what is it?"

Iroh held the object up to the light for his nephew to see. Zuko's eyes fell upon the small blue trinket and he felt the heat of a gasp escape his lips.

"Katara."

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**So I guess I am going to do my author's notes in weird formats every single time. For those who are slightly confused, again, I edited and revised this chapter. I really hope this turned out better than before and like I said, this isn't how every chapter is going to be, so I am so super duper sorry! Maybe because I feel so bad you guys can tell me I am doing a kinda okay job and I will have more inspiration to post another chapter! :P Thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting and following! **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN FOR THOSE WHO HAVE NOT NOTICED: Chapter 2 has been updated! Please re-read it if you have not done so already (a lot of you probably have no clue what I am talking about because you read it after the revision anyways. If so, carry on. :) PS: This ship has reached fluff island.)**

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"_Katara."_

Zuko could almost feel the blood pulsing through his veins as he clutched the small blue stone in his hand. His boots clanked heavily against the dock as he stepped off of the boat, taking in the ocean air for the briefest of moments. Their journey to Ember Island had taken most of the evening and Zuko now assumed that it was mere moments from sunrise. He did not care. Striding forward, he marched into the small village of Embertown.

Embertown was the pride and glory of the Council of the Fire Lily. It had been established only a few months after Zuko's coronation by none other than Mai and her troupe of lady friends. Many of those who were misplaced by the war decided to take refuge here. The town consisted mostly of retired veterans who wished to live the rest of their days out in peace with their families, but there were small smatterings of youthful firebenders, Earth Kingdom warriors, and even a few elderly waterbenders. The town sat atop solid earth but five long canals that connected to the docks had been carved out into the city to allow for boat transportation from one end of the city to the other. Of course being on a resort island, the town had many visitors who came through on vacations, and often became rambunctious in the town's bars and taverns. This generated a need for a small jail. General Anto had been appointed the chief of police in Embertown after expressing interest in helping to repurpose the small island. Since the opening, the jail had only confined a handful of prisoners, mostly drunks who would spend the night in one of the three cells and be released the next day when they could do no more belligerent harm; or common pickpockets who preyed on unsuspecting families on vacation. The job of town babysitter had become mediocre and Anto had grown anxious to flower into a higher ranking position, but Zuko's council would not allow for it due to his service in the former Fire Lord's regime.

Tonight the town was aburst in bright lights, loud music spilling out into the streets from open doors and windows. Zuko found it to be quite annoying as he stomped along one of the canals that lead further into the heart of the town. Finally he stopped in front of a large wooden door, atop which rested a fairly new sign that read 'Embertown Police Department'. Zuko flung the door open, allowing it to slam shut with little regard for the fact that his uncle and Sintag were not far behind him.

The slamming struck at the attention of the middle aged chief of police who sat quietly behind a desk with far too little paperwork atop it. The desk also housed a thin bottle of ember liquid, a short glass with a few cubes of ice that were slowly perspiring into the wood and what appeared to be a tray with sand and small rocks arranged neatly in a pile.

"What can I do for you this even-Oh!" General Anto glanced up and locked his gaze with Zuko, realizing his Fire Lord was heaving in and out like a wolf clawing for meat. The middle aged man fumbled slightly, snatching the bottle and recapping it, tossing it in a drawer at his left. "Fire Lord Zuko! My desperate apologies!" The general stood, his chair falling backward without care, and he came around the side of the desk to bow low before Zuko. "I certainly did not expect for you to come down yours-"

"Where is she?" Zuko said, cutting him off. His fist still clutched the small pendant, but for fear of crushing it out of anger, he let his grip loosen slightly when Anto made towards the door leading to the cells. The man fumbled drunkenly with the key in the lock, muttering signs of apology under his breath. The candle that burned in the wall next to the door grew much hotter and the ice that had originally floated in the brandy glass had now cast a thin, clear meniscus on top of the fiery alcohol.

Iroh and Sintag pushed into the police station to find Zuko tapping his boot against the wooden floor. Anto finally succeeded in eliciting a small click from the door, much to Zuko's satisfaction. Anto and Iroh stewarded themselves into the room following Zuko who trailed close behind their nervous officer. The first cell they passed was empty. The second held two young boys who were pushing at each other with quiet distaste.

"Stop it, you two!" Anto barked, clanging the nightstick that was strapped tightly on his belt against the cell bars as they passed. The young boys calmed down. Zuko noticed that one had bright blonde hair and olive skin while the other had black hair and fair ivory skin. The blonde threw himself onto the small, single cot in the cell while the black haired boy wandered over to another corner and sat down. They peered at each other with scowls on their faces, paying no other mind to the visitors that passed them.

"Why are they in here? They look very young." Iroh stated, stopping for a moment to look at the boys. This prompted the others to stop and turn to him.

"They are orphans. Came into town this morning, each from a different ship. T'were fighting each other in an alley. That one," he pointed to the blonde, "is Earth Kingdom. The other is from the Fire Nation Capital. I put them in there so they had to sort out their differences before either one is walking out of here. Not sure where they'll go after that," Anto replied, "probably the boys' home on the next island over." Zuko seemed very uncaring about the story and far too eager to reach the third cell as he pressed onward. Iroh stood for a moment longer, passing an understanding and satisfied nod to Anto, who smiled widely.

"I can appreciate good discipline." Iroh stated before continuing onward. "Patience, nephew!" He called after Zuko who was still hurrying down the hallway towards the final cell. "I am sure that our Chief of Police here has taken great care of her since she arrived."

"W-w-well, s-sir, actually-" Anto began but was cut off when he noticed the Fire Lord had stopped, dead in his tracks.

Zuko stared into the cell at the sight before him. There were tattered pieces of rag and clothing that was once blue on the floor, barely enough to cover a small child. A bowl of what he had hoped were oats was spilled over while another bowl lay next to it, barren and empty. The moon shone brightly now through the bars that rested in the top, far corner of the cell. Underneath, in the pool of light that splayed across a few feet of the dirty floor, a small, quivering form lay, back turned to the onlookers in the hall. Her hair fell into a large brown pile at the top of her back. It was matted and messy but it somehow still shone with silken sheen in the moonlight. The back of the figure was exposed, save for a thin wrapping that was tucked beneath the girl's arms and one that covered her otherwise exposed bottom. Thin legs were curled up and she lay in the fetal position from what could be told by looking at her backside. The one noticeable trait about the whole cell apart from the girl on the floor was what lay beneath her. A thin puddle of water darkened the ground beneath her body, small glimmers of chunks that were once ice floated quietly around, slowly turning into liquid.

The body that lay in the center of the cell was worn. Purple and yellowing bruises were scattered over her form, some large and puckering, others small and barely noticeable. Small cuts adorned her feet and legs, like she had shoved her lower half into a tub of broken glass and waded around a bit. However, they were not bleeding any longer. The smell of salt water collided with Zuko's nose; not like the air he breathed outside, however. This smell was harsh and unforgiving, although behind it hid a tinge of something else… Something sweet?

Zuko could feel his lips quiver and the blood rush from his face as the others caught up to him. Anto quickly fumbled again with the keys but Zuko decided that his patience was wearing thin, no matter what his uncle said. He placed his hands on the bars of the cell and closed his eyes. Like meeting an old friend, he breathed deeply and felt every hair on his hands begin to erect as the heat pooled in his arms and rushed through his veins. He felt the metal start to pool in his hands and drip down into a molten puddle on the floor. The transfer of energy from his hands into the heat conducting bars was almost orgasmic, and he felt guilty for the incredibly mild rise that sunk into the pool of his stomach and released a fevering excitement down into his pelvis.

"Fire Lord Zuko, my lord, uh-" Anto, shaking, pointed at the opening the Fire Lord made in the cell, but quickly silenced himself as Zuko turned on his side, squeezed his thin form between the bars and made his way into the darkened room. He crossed half of the floor before he realized that something was wrong.

"Why is she in here like this?!" Zuko turned back to Anto, rage boiling like hot fire beneath his eyes.

"We-well, that's the th-thing, m-m-mi'lord, she was found on the beach a-and, well, she was unconscious, s-s-ir…" Anto was backing away, afraid that Zuko would strike him. "She awoke when some of the…locals…brought her here, but she immediately demanded we send for you, sir. I thought she was just crazy- I tried to find out where she was from, or what she was doing on the beach, sir, but she wouldn't answer me," the chief of police was now pleading with the firebender as Zuko had started to stomp towards him. "She would not eat when she arrived, sir- I assumed she was just some crazy peasant-"

Suddenly there was a small cough.

Zuko turned back to the girl on the floor. Harsh stomping turned into light tip toes. The candles that lined the hallway dimmed slightly. Zuko's breathing evened out as he approached the small waterbender. The light bounced off of her moist, trembling skin as he could see more of her. Finally, as he towered over her, she shifted ever so slightly. At seeing her form trying to piece itself together through movement, Zuko fell to his knees. He was afraid to touch her. She was like porcelain that had been left in the kiln for too long; one touch could send her to ash. But how she longed to feel that warmth again and if only he knew... Finally, Zuko leaned over her, peering down at her as he placed his hand on her bare shoulder. A spark flew threw his finger and collided with his nerves, sending a piercing shot into his throat as he opened his mouth to speak. Shivers came rushing out of him as small bumps started to raise from his skin. He tried to pull his hand back at the sensation but found that not even the will of a thousand men could break his hand from her cocoa skin. She stirred, only sending a warmer feeling into the pool of his stomach. Finally, she turned towards him, a soft, broken smile graced her bluish lips.

"Z-z-zu-…" She whispered out, small puffs of cold air escaping from her slightly parted lips.

"Shhh, it's okay, you're safe now."

In that moment, Zuko found himself completely focused on his actions. Her body in his hands was like firebending and he wondered how she could be so cold but make him feel so warm. He was useful now, as he pulled her over onto her back, slipping his left arm underneath her and pulling her form onto his knee. He ran his right hand up and down her arm, bending the fire within himself to warm her as he went. He had never felt anything like this before. Every touch of her body was like electricity had been shot into him; not lightening like his sadistic sister had bent through him, but pure electrical energy. It was exhilarating. He could feel her, really feel her. Her inner workings. She was cold to the touch but her soft brow was sweating. The heart that beat beneath her lightly heaving bosoms was weakened. She quivered still but her eyes fluttered slightly and finally opened up, looking right into his. Beautiful pools of blue had been glossed over by illness. Her tan lips were cracked and drying and Zuko saw small beads of red start to form as she spoke.

"Zuko," her voice was like a soft wind you only noticed when standing still, "I thought it…was…high time that…" she coughed, "…I came to visit…" Her smile was worn, but it was present, and it made him glow.

Zuko let out a breathy chuckle as he felt a moistness form in the lid of his eye. He blinked, letting the drop roll down his cheek and land among her violent brown tresses. "What happened to you?" He continued his ministrations on her arms, feeling his warm energy seeping into her skin and bringing color back into her features.

"Violence in…Omashu…Aang and I… had to go by ship…" She coughed again, this time sending herself into a violent thrust forward, only falling back into Zuko's chest. His warmth felt so healing up against her body. Aang had been the only one to hold her so close like this while she was so exposed. Her movements became a soft frantic adjustment of her little tatters of clothing, trying to cover parts of her skin. She was so aware of Zuko's presence; his arms closing in around her, opposite hands running up and down her opposite arms, generating heat and transferring it into her to warm her ever- reviving heart. His face was now lost behind her hair, but his breath tickled the back of her throat. That was when she looked over and noticed the robust, elderly man and the middle- aged chief of police staring at her in horror. "There was…" she continued, "…a storm and a…rogue wave and…" suddenly the world started to darken around her. She felt her body moving in short, violent spasms as the world flipped upside down and then she was blind. And then she felt nothing. All she could see before her eyes rolled in on themselves was Zuko's mouth screaming, but she could not hear him.

"Uncle!" Zuko screamed as he watched Katara's blue eyes slip up into her head, revealing yellowing whites that lay beneath. She was seizing; her entire body was trembling and shaking.

Anto gaped in horror further while the Dragon of the West snatched the keys from his hand, quickly unlocking the cell door. Iroh came bounding towards Zuko who was desperately trying to hold her down.

"Hold her arms, nephew! Anto!" Iroh beckoned for the man to come to them. He did so hesitantly. "Grab her leg!" Iroh gestured to her left leg while he pleaded with the man, restraining Katara's right leg as he spoke. "We need to hold her until it stops."

Anto approached slowly, but the Fire Lord grew impatient. His eyes widened, filling with panic. "General Anto! Now!" He prompted the guard to fall to a sitting position and grab Katara's left leg, pinning it in between his hands and pulling it taut. She continued to flail wildly for a few more moments against the strain of the three men holding her until she finally stopped and the world grew cold and still. Iroh placed his fingers against her neck, feeling her cold skin for a pulse. It was faint, but present.

"We must get her medical attention immediately." Iroh stood, glancing at Anto who nodded in understanding and rushed from the room.

"Uncle, what's wrong with her?" Zuko slid his arms underneath Katara's now limp form and hoisted her up. Her body lay splayed across his arms as he carried her from the room, Iroh in tow.

"I am not sure, Zuko, but she is in your care now."

"A carriage and boat are being prepared for you, mi'lord." Anto returned to the room, bowing deeply.

"Thank you, General Anto." Iroh stated calmly. "I will send for a metalworker in the morning to repair your cell. I apologize on behalf of my nephew's impatien-"

"Uncle!" Zuko barked, his arms still wrapped generously around Katara's form. "How dare you apologize after the way she's been treated? I should have his head on a pike for disrespecting her!"

"I apologize, my lord," Anto's nervousness had melted now into pure adrenaline and frustration with the Fire Lord's attitude, "but I don't see what is so important about some water tribe peasant."

In his words, Zuko could hear himself from years before, barking the words over and over again, _peasant, peasant, water tribe, witch…_

Zuko reached out and held the small blue stone up to the light.

"General Anto, do you know what this stone is?"

The police chief shook his head.

"This is a very personal trinket that belongs to this woman. If you were to glance at any news scroll you would know…" Zuko turned the pendant over and over in his hand before retrieving a piece of tattered cloth from his side. He strung the cloth into the open loop at the top of the stone and wrapped it around his wrist, tying it into a tight knot. "This is Ambassador Katara. This is your Fire Lord's best friend."

The journey back to the Fire Nation capital was much too long and much too quiet for Zuko's taste. He had stayed with Katara when they were ferried across the black water, and he stayed with her in the carriage. By the time Sintag and Chingu, Zuko's trusted royal healer, had placed Katara on a bed in the palace guest chambers, the sunlight spilled through the crack in the curtains and cast a bold ray of light into the room. It was mid-day and Zuko still had not slept. Iroh traveled back to the palace by a separate carriage so he could rest, only at the insistence of his nephew, of course.

As the healer stood above Katara, she looked up at Zuko.

"We must cut her bindings, mi'lord, to inspect her injuries properly." Chingu's voice was soft, but stern. Zuko, however, did not receive the hint as he only nodded and found his way over to a chair. He pulled the chair over to the side of the bed opposite where the healer and her twin brother were standing.

"My lord, I believe what my sister is saying-" Sintag began.

The Fire Lord sat in the chair, leaning forward and clasping Katara's hand in his, warming it as he stroked his thumb across her fingers. The small blue stone dangled from his wrist.

"Leave, Sintag. I appreciate your service but you are dismissed. I will be staying with Chingu and Katara." Zuko spoke boldly while glaring into Chingu's eyes out of desperation. The young woman understood and began working. The door closed quietly.

Chingu worked with tools from a tray that had been laid on the bed at Katara's feet. She used a large pair of sheers to cut through the white bindings that covered Katara's skin. Any young man without the honor and respect, nor the pleasure of having known Katara, would have taken the opportunity to glance down at her still quivering form, and take in the sight of her naked body before them. Zuko was, however, not without honor and respect. His eyes stayed transfixed on Katara's paling face while Chingu laced her body with bandages and ointments and heated blankets that she was constantly replacing from a pile that sat atop burning coals.

Hours went by, but for Zuko it seemed like years. It had been almost three whole days since he had a decent night's rest. He let his head rest slightly on his elbow as he stared at Katara. Occasionally her eyes would betray her restless sleep with a flinch or a shiver. It was at those moments that he would squeeze her hand slightly.

"She has a head injury. She must have been in the water for a long time because it's been cleaned out by the salt water." Chingu broke the silence with her update on the waterbender's status. "That must have been what prompted her seizure." The healer reached behind herself for another small hot blanket, but to her dissatisfaction, found none. "Fire Lord Zuko, can you make yourself useful and send for-"

Zuko leaned forward, ignoring the healer and placed his hand upon Katara's forehead. He felt the energy swell within him and travel down his arms. The heat pulsed into his fingertips, spreading into his palms. He could no longer feel the difference between the heat of his hands and the heat on Katara's forehead. She stirred lightly as the heat sept into her. Chingu pulled the tray from the bed and covered Katara's form.

"That's all I can do for tonight," she stated bluntly, "I will send for someone to watch her."

"No, it's fine. I will stay." Zuko looked up at the healer who glanced at him with curious eyes. After a moment, Chingu nodded and rearranged the tools on the tray, placing it on the small table next to the bed. Chingu bowed low to the Fire Lord and took her leave. They were now alone.

Zuko felt his eyes starting to close as he scooted his chair a little closer to the bed, leaning his head on the pillow next to Katara's. He still held her hand but he felt alone in his thoughts as he let them pull him into sleep.

_Where is this feeling coming from? It's been years since I have seen Katara…Why am I so upset that she is so hurt? Why? How, even? _

Sleep finally overcame him and his thoughts calmed into silent hushing noises in the back of his mind.

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**AN **Good lord, what a chapter. I hope you guys thought so too. So in case you haven't noticed, a few things were changed in chapter two. For those of you who liked the kidnapping plot point, IT IS STILL COMING. Just in a different way. Some of you may have already caught on, but more will be mentioned int he next chapter. What are you guys thinking? Please let me know! Thanks so much for all the feedback follows and favorites so far! I live to please and am pleased to be living. 3 Also how am I doing with fluff? lol


	4. Chapter 4

**This chapter is fucking weird. You have been warned. **

_Sleep finally overcame him and his thoughts calmed into silent hushing noises in the back of his mind._

The serene sound of ocean sails filled the air, parading under the façade of thick curtains flapping in the wind. The air smelled of roses; perfect, soft and not too sweet but something lingered behind it that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Warm air seeped into the pores on her skin as the small hairs that covered her arms begin to perk up. She smiled. Her eyelids were still glued shut, but her smile spread widely across her face like a canyon splitting a great sea. Her lips tasted something bitter, but not unenjoyable. Katara could swear she felt a breath cross over her cheek and a warmth like nothing before began to pool in her stomach. Her nose crinkled up slightly. She pushed her arms up and her legs down, stretching herself out, groaning softly. She was laying atop silk sheets that were warm to her touch. She splayed her fingers across them, feeling every small wrinkle, playing her fingers across the fabric, careful not to alter any crease. When her right arm extended out as far as it could, she let it rest on the bed, pulling her left arm into her heart. She realized then, that she was naked.

Her arm folded into her breasts and she hugged herself, clutching her right hand full of silk in a ball. She sighed and moaned, finally pushing a yawning breath from the back of her chest into the air. Her skin grew pert and rippled with tiny bumps of warm satisfaction.

The silk of the bed she held in her hand was warm, but cooling slowly, as if someone had laid there only moments before. This made her smile grow even wider, if that was possible.

Katara swung her legs over the bed and planted her feet on the floor, sitting up to full attention. She stood, walking over to the vanity across the room. The gap between the bed and the small beauty table seemed just a few steps wider today, but she thought nothing of it. Sliding her fingers into the draw and pulling it out, Katara retrieved a cold, metal brush. Running it through her hair, her goosebumps faded. Her smile drooped downward as she felt chunks of hair falling from her bed in reckless abandon. Her feet were tickled by the dropping strands and she knew something was fatally wrong.

A loud banging came from somewhere in front of her. It was persistent, growing louder and louder. The beats were sporadic, like someone knocking on a door, trying to get in. Suddenly, she heard a shatter.

Quickly Katara raised her arm to protect her face from the shards of glass that flied past her, cutting into her extremities and her feet as she tried to steady herself on the vanity chair. Suddenly she felt herself yanked forward. A hot breath was now at her lips, almost growling at her. Katara screamed, trying to push herself away, but only succeeding in trapping her arm between lithe, feminine fingers. Another hand curled itself around her flailing arm, grabbing her impossibly quick but as slow as the moon creeping through the night sky, all at the same time. A retching feeling pushed itself through the back of her throat, but she bit it back.

"What do you want?!" She yelled, pushing her head out and turning her head in every direction. Her attacker was silent.

Her arms were still trapped in a vicelike grip as she felt a hand grip her chin roughly. She screamed, panting, and shaking her head as violently as possibly to escape the grasp that drowned her in fear.

Then she felt it.

Then she saw it.

A small light slipped into her right eye. She blinked, feeling the slight scrape against her cornea of the black stiches that had kept her blind. In front of her was a striking young woman, gripping her left arm in one hand, a small knife in the other. The knife had the most intricate carvings along the handle, even as a black fluid dripped down onto the hand of the girl. She looked so familiar; like Katara had seen her in a dream somewhere…She had long, brown hair that held itself into two small, braided loops at the side of her face. Her attire was blue; an intricately furry top with thin straps clung to her chest, and a cool blue metal pendant rested at her throat. She was fierce looking; like she had seen war over and over again. Katara could see her blue eyes filling with tears. There was nothing behind the girl, behind the mirror that had once been there; just a void, black oblivion. The girl was crying now, but Katara stared past her. In the corner, a small piece of mirror still clung desperately to the golden frame that had once been it's whole home. Katara peered into her right eye; a black fluid dripping from behind her white clouded itself in small pools around her beautifully shimmering ocean blue.

A sob pushed itself from her throat. She looked down finally, crying softly. She wasn't sure why, she just knew…

She just knew that the black fluid pouring from her eye was slipping in streams into the air, circling at her side. The flowed and crisscrossed, pouring into a large puddle that poured into itself over and over until finally, a large black figure stood before her. It's hand glowed red and a fire licked at it's fingers, which were sharp as daggers. The figure stared into her eye and she felt so cold, so alone…

Zuko's mouth turned down in a scowl. He could feel the hand beneath his trembling as he watched the hardening expressions of Katara's face. She moaned very quietly, in a breathy high-pitched manner, frightening him slightly. Her eyebrows were furrowed and sweat beaded against her hairline as her lips pursed open and shut, like she was trying to scream but something kept forcing her lips closed. Zuko was frustrated at watching her; he wanted to help her, calm her down…something…

He pressed his free hand against her forehead as she started to rest easier. At his touch, she calmed, soothing herself back into a quiet sleep. Her lips did not curl into her famous smile, however they did loosen, parting slightly and letting quiet, gentle snores escape.

It had to be past two in the afternoon already. The sunlight shone in brightly through the lithe silk curtains that flapped in the open window. The air was warm, but not hot. Zuko sighed, yawned, and only parted his hands from Katara's form when he felt the need to stretch deeply. Chingu had come earlier to tend more to Katara's wounds, keeping Zuko updated on her progress. To the healer's surprise, when she examined the girl, she noted that the shredding and scraping on her legs was completely gone, and many of the other superficial wounds that had lined her body were slowly starting to discolor themselves. The bruises on her ribs stayed prominent, however, and Chingu pressed coldly on them. Katara had winced in her sleep, but had not awoken.

"There are a few broken and a few sprained." Chingu had said as she placed a warm towel over Katara's torso and midriff.

After she replaced the sheet over her body, Chingu let herself out, announcing that she would return again in the evening.

Zuko had canceled his only meeting for the day due to _"…a sudden ailment. I think it's the fire flu."_ His delegates excused his absence with less than enthusiastic nods, as reported by Sintag, who delivered the message.

There was much weighing on the young Fire Lord's mind as he watched Katara sleep. He thought of all of his duties that were lined up for the following day; he had a meeting with the city planner, a session with his council regarding hinges in their budget plans, and finally lunch with the warden of Boiling Rock. He also thought of Mai, and how his face still stung slightly; a small red dotted line lightly penetrated the skin against the length of his jaw. Of course, she was angry with him. Not only had he rejected her, he had asked her to share her rejection with the most judgmental group of women in the Fire Nation.

Yet his regret at the manner in which he "ended" things with Mai did nothing to sway him to scoop her up in his arms, apologize and rain kisses down on her. Things with Mai had been dwindling for a long time. The day of Zuko's coronation, she had been so thrilled for him when the ebony of his hair met the golden sunset of his crown. He did not fill with joy, however, like he thought he would for so long. His heart had leapt and turned in him, but not out of excitement. He remembered clearly the first feeling he had after being crowned. It was the feeling of bile in the back of his throat. He felt as though he had lost something; something important. He hadn't felt that way since the day his mother disappeared. And things had not been the same since. His boy-like wonder and anxious attitude with seeing Mai, even intimately, had devolved into agitation and soon nothing at all.

Zuko sighed loudly, pulling his hand back from Katara's and running it through his hair. He could feel beads of sweat smearing under his finger. He decided that he needed some fresh air. He stood and quietly exited the room, turning to glance back at Katara before leaving.

Zuko traipsed through the antechamber before wandering out onto the balcony. The wind was blowing lightly through the small cherry blossom trees that stretched up through the small, manufactured garden. He took a seat on a small bench shadowed under a fountain who's towering water stretched a good three feet above him. He leaned his head back and basked in the sunset, closing his eyes.

He was almost sleeping when the sound of his balcony doors being flung open startled him. A young woman, a servant or maid he assumed, came rushing in, flustered. He stood, ready to scold her for barging in on him, when he noticed tears streaming down her face.

"Fire Lord Zuko! I am very sorry for disturbing you, my lord!" She was crying and her words poured out of her mouth in harsh, guttural wheezes.

"What is it?" He asked, placing his hand on her shoulder to try to calm her.

"My lord! Something has happened in the servant chambers! I'm sorry! Please! Come quick!" She pleated, reaching up and grabbing his hand.

He made no effort to fight her as she led him down the halls, down into the servant chambers far below the palace. It was dark and musky as they passed small rooms carved out of clay walls and filled with bed rolls and wooden furniture. The servant's chambers were kept by humble means. The servants were always given a warm place to sleep, hot meals, and even separate rooms for their family members who came to stay in the palace. The latter was something new that the Fire Lord instilled when he found out that the common servants that lived under the Fire Nation Palace would not be able to see their families while they served, and were given a very modest retirement when they were too old to work. Zuko had found this to be an appalling policy and had been working hard to change it. But progress takes time, and apparently so does airing out the smell…

They passed by several rooms filled with quivering young women, crying children and a few young men who bowed low as the Fire Lord passed. Finally they reached the end of the hall and the young maid pointed in horror at the site before her. What Zuko saw before him made him cringe.

In the far corner of the room, a group of men and women had gathered around a small heap in the floor. Behind them, Zuko could make out a shape on the wall…No, not a shape; a word. It was written in blood, but he had to get closer to read it. He took a step, startling the group. A few guards came rushing into the room, staring at the Fire Lord with questioning looks. Zuko peered through the group and finally saw what they had gathered around.

Zuko fell to his knees.

In a pile of rags and dirt and blood there lay a body. It was not the body of an elder who had lived a full life and would be mourned for silent days or even weeks. It was not the body of an important dignitary who would have to be replaced in the court but never by his family. It was not the body of a woman who was beaten and raped, de-virginized on her death bed and shamed forever beneath the quiet sobs of a husband who felt betrayed by the world. All of this would have been better.

The body that lay in the heap on the floor was the body of a child. A small boy dressed in small rags with small hands and small feet and a small thatch of black hair atop a small head. His arms lay across each other as he was hurdled on his side. There was no life, no color in him any longer. His hands were like ice as Zuko reached out to them. His face…

And Zuko felt a harsh acid creeping up into his throat. The hair, the ears, the little chin was all in place…the face of the boy had been removed. All that remain in it's place were eyes that would never shut, and tissue exposed to the world. Zuko felt himself dizzy and he reached his arm out.

One of the guard came rushing to him, helping him up. Zuko wrenched his eyes from the body and swallowed, hard.

"Get them out of here," He said quietly, turning himself away from the gruesome scene. The other few guards who had followed him down ushered the group of people out quietly. To his surprise, they left without argument.

Zuko then turned, with the assistance of the guard, to the young girl who had brought him down into the chambers. She was sitting on the floor in the opposite corner of the room, her legs tucked up under her chin. Zuko dismissed the guard holding him up and made his way towards her.

A few women came in and covered the body as more guards spilled in trying to distinguish what had happened. Zuko reached out and placed his hand on the shoulder of the girl, looking over and relieved to see the body had been shielded from his vision. He made out the word that was pasted on the wall in the glowing red paint.

"Who was he?" He asked, softly petting the young girl's hair. She sobbed, leaning over into his chest.

"H-he was the s-son…of one of…the ch-ch-amber maids. He was m-my friend."

"Shh," Zuko hushed the girl, "and tell me…what is Uli?" He said, sounding out the word that was on the wall.

"N-n-not what-t, m-my lord…who-o. Uli," she started to calm herself, "was his mother."

"And where is she?"

The girl looked up at the Fire Lord. His eyes were golden amber and full of mercy; hers were puffed and brown and full of sadness.

"Gone."

Zuko's office had been abuzz all evening with comers and goers. Many of the young servants and family members had been ushered in and out for statements, all of which were collected by Captain Sunsuhan, the head of the Police in the Fire Nation Capital. In the meanwhile, General Anto and troops had been searching restlessly for the missing servant. But the night had begun to turn into dawn and the search parties were retreating back into the palace.

Zuko sat quietly, listening to the witnesses give their statements. There were many cases of "I couldn't see clearly," and "I don't quite remember,". When asked about where Uli might have gone, a few spoke of her going out on her off-duty days to see a man while others claimed that she would pick up shifts at local odds and ends jobs. Either way, their leads all proved to be of no use, and when the final search party returned, the Captain decided to retire for the night.

It was all a blur to Zuko. He could still see the face, or lack thereof, of the young boy. He imagined what his face might have looked like, and the horror it might have been twisted into shortly before his death. Zuko sat, making no noise and no movement. Finally, when everyone had left the room, he found peace. He stood, stretched, and reached under his desk for a small flask.

Twisting the top off, he could immediately feel the harsh stinging of the odor of fire whiskey ripping itself into his nostrils. Shutting his eyes, he knocked back a few swigs and sat back down.

"Nephew," Iroh stood in the doorway. He had ushered the last of the men down the hall and returned to the Fire Lord's office, letting himself in.

Zuko stared up at him blankly and watched as he took the seat in front of the desk.

"What you saw today, Zuko," he began, "was a most horrific sight. I, myself, was fortunate to enter the scene long after the young boy's body had been taken by the healers." He placed his hand over Zuko's protectively as he watched a small tear start to form in the Fire Lord's eye. "You must be strong for your people, Zuko."

The young man nodded. They continued on, Zuko eventually joining the conversation. They discussed how they would be improving security around the castle, starting early in the evening. They talked of the young boy and the misfortune of his family. They talked of how the young girl was being seen at the capital's hospital. And Zuko could feel himself growing from darkened heart to mildly okay. Finally, after what felt like hours but was only short of one, and what felt like gallons but was only one flask, the Fire Lord excused himself and made his way down the hallway.

He stumbled, drunkenly, and had wondered why his uncle had not offered him tea and taken his harsher beverage from him as was his normal way. He figured the Dragon of the West could see his need to breathe the fire; to let it coax him into normality. And that made it okay for just one night.

Zuko found his way to his room, greeted by Sintag who smiled sheepishly at him. Zuko patted him on the shoulder before entering his quarters. Zuko stripped himself of his shirt. Although he had spent the day in glorified pajamas due to the afternoon's events, it still felt nice to free himself from the trapped thicket of silk. He scrawled his legs through the antechamber and into his bedroom. What he saw was the most relieving sight.

Blue eyes. A sweet smile. Mocha skin that reflected in the moonlight. Katara was laying still, but her back was propped up and she was almost sitting. A tray of fruits had been laid on the table next to the bed. The blankets and sheets were tucked under her arms, concealing her body from view. Zuko knew from seeing her earlier that she had no bindings on, nor anything else for that matter. Still in obvious pain at movement, she glanced up and her eyes locked with Zuko's. Her mouth opened to form a perfect 'o'.

Zuko was enraptured by the sobering sight before him. He felt his legs straighten and his heart started to flutter in his chest. He no longer felt his head woozing. In just a few careful strides, he made his way over to his friend.

Katara could not make out the figure standing in the doorway, but as he approached her, it became clear. Fire Lord Zuko, in all his shirtless glory, strode at her like a swaying ostrich horse. His hair was loose and fluffing, sunken in under a tipped crown. His chest glowed in the weak sunlight that played itself in through the curtains, ushering in the morning. His eyes were glazed over in a peak of alcohol, but he still seemed so alert. He came over and stood at her side, watching as she popped a grape into her mouth from the vine cluster that lay in her hands.

"Good morning." She said through a smile and a mouth full of fruit.

And finally Zuko let something out that he hadn't in quite a long time…

He chuckled.

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**AN: **Okay...so for those wondering 'what the fuck was that', I genuinely applaud you that you made it through to the author's note. Yes you just witnessed a chapter go from weird to eh to wtf kids are dying to heartwarming. I promise this is probably going somewhere...Just bear with me, okay? Much more Zutara love in the next chapter though; now that she's fucking awake. Thanks again so much for reading. I cannot believe how well this story is doing! I know I need to work on Gravity, but Zutara month is upon us. I urge you, while you wait for the next chapter, go to read my Zutara month fic, **White Flag**. It's a series of drabbles and one shots and it includes my** very first lemon ever! **Thanks again for all your support, guys, and I really hope I am doing well! I'll only know if you review!


	5. Chapter 5

_"Good morning." She said through a smile and a mouth full of fruit._

_And finally Zuko let something out that he hadn't in quite a long time…_

_He chuckled._

Katara lay in the bed, propped upright against the headboard while Zuko let out a few quiet snores from the armchair across the room. He appeared so peaceful, but Katara could instantly tell at the sight of him that something was wrong. He was exhausted. Apart from the bags under his eyes, his staggering sway in his walk and the tiredness of his breath when he plopped down in the chair, Katara noticed something in him that she had hoped she would never see again; fear.

When he first entered the room, he had pulled her into a quick embrace, only letting go when he noticed the young healer who had been tending to Katara. Chingu had not returned since the evening before due to her own state of unrest. The healer who accompanied them now was a young boy, roughly twelve in age, who had a proper military appearance; buzzed hair, firm hands and squared shoulders, probably in the image of his father. He let out a small clearing of his airway when the Fire Lord had so easily thrown himself into Katara's embrace, knocking the vine of grapes from her lap and onto the floor. After picking them up, he had been excused and was not able to listen in on the conversation of the Fire Lord and the Waterbender.

They talked very briefly; mostly about how Katara had been feeling and how Iroh would send for the Avatar now that she was awake. Finally Zuko succumbed to his own exhaustion and fell into the chair across the room, propping his feet on the small ottoman that sat in front of it. Where he lay now.

She wondered curiously as to what had been causing the Fire Lord such distress. Much else had crossed her mind since she had woken. She was still concerned for Aang and those who were traveling with her. She was very certain now, after feeling the power of her bending surge through her, that she had been able to cast the wave away in time. Still, what if something else had happened on their journey? She decided that it wasn't worth getting herself worked up, seeing as how she would find out in a few days. But still, it was hard not to be in constant worry about her _friends. _That brought her to Zuko.

She peeked around the room and finally decided to try to stand up. She had been in bed for what she could only describe as eternity and her body ached whether she moved or not. She pulled the covers up and glanced down at herself. Her chest was bound in familiar white wrappings that snaked over her tan skin and under her arms. Her stomach and ribs were marbled with black and green and yellow bruises. She pressed against the top of the marbling with one finger experimentally, only to wince and pull it back at the sudden pain. Her hips and the tops of her legs had been encased in thin wrappings of gauze, forming makeshift briefs that clung to her body.

Katara took a deep breath and pulled the blanket back, exposing her skin to the air. It puckered and perked up, goosebumps running the length of her form like small ripples from a stone thrown in a pool. She shimmied slightly, biting her lip and clenching at the blankets as the pain shot through her body. She needed to get up, still, and she pivoted her legs over the side of the bed. The pain had subsided slightly with use as her feet were planted on the floor. Finally pushing up the last of her weight, she stood, stumbling slightly. Grabbing for the bedside table as support, she accidentally flung the small empty fruit bowl onto the floor. It clattered slightly, but did not break. She quickly shot her eyes over to the sleeping Fire Lord, who stirred slightly, but did not wake.

Making her way across the room, using the wall and furniture for support, she came to the Zuko's washroom. She pulled the door closed behind her and immediately felt her heartbeat growing stronger and pulling, pulling from inside her chest towards the large glass and marble shower before her.

Showers were not something that Katara was used to. They were something that the Fire Nation engineers had come up with; a technology that was only recently being shared with the world. The water no longer needed to be pumped; it ran through the pipes on its own through with the help of motors. However, many of the showers, include the Fire Lords, had been designed with the intention of being used by Firebenders, who could change the temperature of the water with ease. This meant that the shower had one setting; freezing cold.

At this point, Katara would have been satisfied with a small tub of static cold water, but a shower was a sight she teared up at. She quickly pushed herself through the pain and over to the faucet, turning it repeatedly until the water came out in a steady downpour. She sighed and delved in, gasping at the cool liquid washing over her. Now, it was time to work.

Katara pulled her hair over to one side and stared at herself in the great mirror before her. She had discarded the bindings shortly after she started to bathe herself, as they were no longer needed. Her ribs were now taught in the skin with no more discoloration or pain. Her legs had been healed and any sign of the incident prior to her washing ashore had vanished. She idly combed her fingers through her long brown locks, thinking now that it must be halfway through the day. Bending the water off of her body and most of it from her hair, she allowed some to remain, keeping her element close to her. It was stimulating.

She pushed open a small cabinet that had been set aside in the corner of the bathroom. In it were many plush red and black towels, soaps, lotions, massage oils and finally, at the very bottom, a pair of gold men's sleep pants and a thin red training top, sleeves hastily cut off. Katara decided they would have to do for now and pulled them on. She wondered if Zuko would mind, but quickly banished the thought. If anything, she'd just throw a few jabs at him and they would be hers.

"Katara?"

A knock resounded off the tile and marble. Katara discarded the towel over small shower rack and gracefully opened the door. Zuko stood before her, and she bowed her head slightly. He noticed her attire and looked at her with skeptical eyes. She noticed and quickly held up her hands, shaking her head in awkward embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Zuko, I just don't have any other clothes with me."

He shrugged it off and smiled, making his way past her and closing the bathroom door behind himself. Katara wandered through the room until her eyes became fixated on a small vanity adorning the far wall, the light from the noon sun casting itself upon the glistening mirror. She quickly turned away, moving over to a small bookshelf as she fingered her way down the spines. Zuko emerged, what felt like hours later, with damp hair.

"I have a few things I need to do today, considering the rece- well I just need to do them." He crossed the room and entered the closet, now speaking louder for Katara to hear him. "I will have one of the maids bring you clothes and set up a guest room for you. Until then, you can stay here, wander the gardens, read in the library..."

"Is your Uncle around?" Katara called, smiling and thinking on the many past conversations that she and Iroh had engaged in. The old man may have been irritating at times to Zuko, but to Katara he was a facet of great stories and greater tea.

"Um," Zuko emerged from the closet, adorned in a black silk shirt and pants that clung tautly to him. The sleeves of the shirt were covered in golden tendrils shaped like dragon claws and flames, embroidered most intricately around the wrists. The same pattern began at his shins and traveled towards feet encased in black boots. "He isn't...readily available today. I'm sorry, Katara."

She nodded hastily in understanding and smiled. "Of course, my Fire Lord." She bowed deep and giggled slightly, noticing a look of annoyance playing on Zuko's face. It fueled her fire and her grin widened.

"Like I said, I'll have a maid in to see to you soon."

Coldly, Zuko took his exit.

Katara plopped down on the small ottoman, and sure enough, it was only minutes before a young girl stumbled through the room, a pile of clothing draped over one arm and a tray of tea and fruit balancing on the other. She placed the tray on the table and it clattered loudly.

"Oh! My apologies, Ambassador Katara!" She exclaimed as a kiwi and a larger than average grapefruit rolled off the tray and landed at Katara's feet. The young girl quickly bent to pick them up, mumbling more apologies. She was incredibly flustered, even for a maid in the home of the Fire Lord.

"It's perfectly fine, and it isn't Ambassador anymo- well, Katara will do just fine anyways." She smiled and bowed slightly at the girl who stood in surprise.

"W-well, thank y-you, Amba- Katar-a-a." She blushed deeply and laid the clothes out across the bed. "The Fire Lord has asked m-me t-to bring you s-some att-tt-ire."

"Thank you, I can surely take care of it from here."

"Yes, ma'am." The maid bowed deeply before Katara as she approached the bed and gazed across the beautiful garments that she had been presented with.

"Where are these from?" She asked, taking one of the golden dresses in her hand and gasping at the fluid-cool silk as it slid through her fingers.

"They are from the royal dresser. The Fire Lord had them made, ma'am, as gifts." She smiled, calming down a bit now. Her face was still very red. Katara noticed that a small drop of what looked like red paint had been pressed into the side of her neck. Blood would have been darker, and stickier, whereas this was the color of the sun at dusk.

"Had them made...?" Katara was confused. "But the Fire Lord didn't know I was coming..."

"Oh, mi'lady, they were made just months following his coronation. In the event that you were to be his guest here, you would have traditional Fire Nation garments to wear to suit your comfort."

"Huh." Katara combed over the clothing with her eyes and with her hands, cascading her fingers over each piece. Suddenly she looked up at the girl, who seemed frightened by her quick movement. "I am so sorry! I haven't asked your name!"

"I am Simjang, mi'lady." She bowed deeply, yet again. Katara bowed in return.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Simjang." Katara thought for a moment and then spoke again. "May I ask you something, Simjang?"

"Yes! Of course, A-Katara!" She smiled awkwardly.

"What is that on your neck?"

Immediately, Simjang's hand flew up to cover the spot. She looked away from Katara and started to make towards the door, stumbling over her own feet.

"Wait! I am sorry if I offended you, it's just- well, I thought it may have been an injury, but it's too light to be blood."

Simjang turned back around to Katara and gazed up into her kind eyes. Her own brown orbs were tearing up slightly, as she moved her hands back towards her legs, cupping them in front of her thighs as she spoke. She stared at the ground. "No, Katara, it's- well, it is a symbol of recognition...of loss."

"Loss?"

Simjang nodded. "We are not supposed to mark ourselves in such ways, says the old laws. The only mark a servant should bear is the mark of their master's brand. However, this is only paint. I wanted to respect the traditions of my people and our way of grieving."

Katara looked down in understanding. She could tell that Simjang must have been of mixed nationalities, or at least not from the Fire Nation. She spoke with a slight accent and her skin was very dark. Her hair had a shade of auburn that Katara could catch when the light hit her just right. She was very beautiful; far too much so to be a servant...at least one of the home-making nature.

"I am sorry for your loss. May I ask who it was?"

"One of my dear friends, and her son." Simjang answered quickly, still looking down and twiddling her thumbs.

"Both? That's horrible! I am very sorry." Katara walked over and placed a hand on the now weeping girl's shoulder. Simjang sank into Katara's touch, against her better judgement. Something about the Waterbender made her feel safe; like someone cared for her.

"It is just so hard to fall asleep in the night knowing that it was so close...that I could be next..." She spoke through shaking sobs, "or even worse, my child." And her hand fell to her stomach.

"Woah, slow down," Katara braced both her hands on either of the maid's shoulders, coaxing her over to a chair and sitting her down. "What do you mean, 'next'?"

"Uli...Uli was taken...and her son...he was murdered."

Katara shivered slightly, as if all the happiness had been taken from the world. A child was murdered and this poor woman felt her life falling to pieces in fear she may be killed as well. She allowed the young girl to sob a bit more, as she got up and walked towards the door. She opened it and peered down the hall, finally hearing a throat clear from her right. A large guard stood, shoulders broad, almost as if he was ready to fight someone.

"Miss Katara, is there something I can do for you?"

"Yes, thanks. Um...Could you please escort Simjang back to her quarters?"

Sintag stood, slightly shocked at her request. "Miss Katara, the servants don't usually receive escorts..."

"Please?" Katara turned up at him and batted her eyelashes slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. "She is very upset and I will be fine here on my own. I just need to know she got back home okay."

Finally, Sintag nodded. "I will fetch one of the Royal Guard to take care of it." He started to walk away before turning back to Katara. "Miss Katara, please stay in the Fire Lord's chambers while I am gone. It will only be a moment." He smiled and turned back, making his way down the hall and out of sight.

Katara re-entered the room, noticing the quiet sobs had faded. Simjang was sitting very still, staring at the mirror and vanity. Her eyes were fixed open on it.

"Seven."

"What?" Katara asked the girl as she made her way past her and back over to the garments on the bed.

"What?" The young servant looked up at her.

"You just said 'seven'. 'Seven' what?" Katara asked as she held up one of the dresses to her form.

"I am not sure, Katara, I didn't say anything..." She gazed confusedly at Katara.

A moment later, a young guard entered the room and collected Simjang. Katara, alone, spent the next few hours cycling through and changing from one outfit to the next, trying on each piece of clothing. Finally, a knock resounded at the door.

"Miss Katara," a voice called through the thick wood, "the Fire Lord requests your presence in the royal dining hall!"

Katara settled on the outfit she had just pulled on; a pair of black pants that stretched around her waist and constricted her at her ankles, a flowing red shirt that hung around her form like a poncho and laid lightly around her shoulders, exposing the skin. She walked through the door of the room and into the antechamber and finally into the hall where the large guard was awaiting her.

"I shall escort you, ma'am."

She followed him through a few short hallways, a few long hallways, and a few areas with so many doors, Katara would not have known to call them hallways or a prison block. Finally they reached a set of large, golden double doors. Katara bowed at the young guard who held the door open for her, closing it after she entered.

* * *

**Yay for revisions! **Okay so I didn't want Katara to just walk in and then stumble her way through a conversation with Iroh and Zuko. Katara is very strong and has the tendency to want to help/know things, so I am going to have her approach the situation in another way. :) At the same token, we may see some of our other characters soon, as well as some much needed Zutara fluff that is coming, I promise. Anyways, please read and review. ;)


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